


Flies and Furniture

by WyvernQuill



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crack, Drabble, F/M, Humor, IKEA, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 08:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20043085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyvernQuill/pseuds/WyvernQuill
Summary: "We're-" Gabriel started."We." Beelzebub interrupted, with an expression that implied ze was rather tempted to start cutting off more than just his sentences. "Are not. Lozzzzt."(Or: An attempt to pursue Aziraphale and Crowley through the maze that is IKEA goes spectacularly wrong as Gabriel and Beelzebub get Absolutely-Not-Lost amidst the showrooms and - as per usual whenever they spend time together - end up trying to kill one another with middling success.)





	Flies and Furniture

**Author's Note:**

> Silly thing I wrote up for Tumblr (same name as here, do come and visit!) instead of studying, as I should have.

"We're-" Gabriel started.

"We." Beelzebub interrupted, with an expression that implied ze was rather tempted to start cutting off more than just his sentences. "Are not. Lozzzzt."

"Ah." Gabriel nodded, putting on what ze thought of as his 'resting-archangel-face'. "That really reassures me, you know."

"I don't like your tone." Ze buzzed threateningly. 

"Because," he continued with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation, "I don't actually know the way, so, if we're not lost, _you_ definitely know it. Right?"

"..."

"RIGHT?"

"...szzzhut up." Beelzebub grumbled, and proceeded to slump into a nearby armchair that was a good few inches to high for zir feet to be able to touch the ground.

\---

It had all made such perfect sense in the beginning, as most suggestions of Gabriel's did, right up until they came up against what the Esteemed Reader might recognise as a tricky little thing called 'reality'.

Aziraphale and Crowley were rogue operatives. Rogue operatives required some sort of surveillance, but who to trust with potentially finding out the secret behind their Holy-Water-and-Hellfire-defying powers?

Nobody, that's who.

Except themselves, naturally, so when the two had begun to make some sort of plans and preparations, until departing to what Gabriel had described as "some sort of weird human furniture temple", Beelzebub obviously had to come zirself.

(Of course Gabriel had told zir. Demons couldn't go around trusting each other, but...

Archangels were maybe - maybe! - another matter.)

Anyway. Briefly after entering the Ee-kay-ah - Gabriel insisted that was how Sandalphon said it was pronounced, and Sandalphon was his most trusted operative, "no war without War", genius guy - Aziraphale and Crowley must've noticed they were being followed, and given them the slip.*

*They'd noticed nothing of the sort. They'd merely seen the opportunity to have a bit of a tumble in the wide variety of wardrobes, and had managed to disappear right into one while Gabriel was loudly asking the shop-human about their beds, and which one was best to "have sleep and pornography on".

They'd probably rearranged the corridors and showrooms, too. Blessed traitors.

\---

"I'll ask another shop-human." Gabriel finally offered after a minute or two of hostile silence, but found they had all taken care to leave the immediate vicinity of the weird shouty businessman and the (tiny) grumpy person with the giant fly on zir head.

"Thizzz wazzz _your_ idiot idea." Ze grumbled, kicking the practical plywood coffeetable. "If Dagon stagezzz a rebellion while I'm gone*, you're _dead_, archangel."

*Not that Dagon ever would. As Keeper of the Files, she was effectively the ruler of the bureaucratic society Hell was.

"They _obviously _led us into a trap, Bee!" Gabriel scoffed. "Just proves they're not to be-"

"WHAT. Did you juzzzzzzzt call me." Beelzebub snapped.

"Uh." Gabriel blinked dumbly at zir. Somehow, he had the feeling the AR - Angelic Ressources - speech about how friendly nicknames increased productivity and improved working climate was not going to go down well.

He still gave it a valiant try, and then he tried running away very fast, and fifteen minutes later found them grappling* among the lamps, lightly bloodied and still hopelessly lost.

*Well. Beelzebub had Gabriel in a headlock, and he was trying not to cry, but, semantics.

"What'zzz. My. Name?" Ze buzzed.

Gabriel, who really had not an ounce of self-preservation, responded with a very rude word.

The Esteemed Reader will hopefully forgive us if we omitt the details of the ensuing battle. It's all quite hard to watch - or read - so let us skip ahead to the two of them doing their very best to strangle each other in the warehouse section, while other shoppers and staff look on in both fascination and abject horror.

Incidentally, this was also around the time Aziraphale and Crowley had completed their tryst in the wardrobe, and had picked out the double bed they wanted to put into their South Downs cottage.

"Is that-" Crowley said, and even though he blinked very rarely, he found it in himself to do so twice in quick succession. 

"Oh, good lord." Aziraphale agreed faintly.

"Should we-"

"Probably."

They stepped as closely as they dared.

Aziraphale daintily cleared his throat.

Gabriel and Beelzebub froze in what took them a few seconds to realise looked like a rather compromising position at first glance.

"It'zzz not what it-" Beelzebub started, curiously red in the face.

"Uh-huh." Gabriel agreed, currently halfway through having a bit of an epiphany about why humans liked that pornography business so much. "Bee and I were just-"*

*_Bee?_ Crowley mouthed incredulously. Aziraphale shrugged.

"We got lozzzt." Ze quickly scrambled up, taking care to kick Gabriel in the stomach on the way. "Juzzt show uzzz the exzzzit, we'll be on our way."

Crowley wordlessly - there really were no words for this - pointed towards the very clearly marked cash registers.

"Thankzzzz!" Beelzebub flustered, grabbing Gabriel - nearly all the way through his epiphany - by the collar and dragging him out as fast as zir legs could carry zir.

\---

"Well." Aziraphale blinked. "That was rather... wasn't it."

"Yup." Crowley agreed.

"I mean... there are maps. How did they get lost?"

"Really, angel!?" Crowley raised one eyebrow. "You see our ex-bosses approaching second base on the floor of an IKEA warehouse, and THAT'S the question on your mind?"

Aziraphale sniffed haughtily. "There are literal _arrows on the floor to show the way,_ Crowley."

Crowley considered that.

"Fair." He finally agreed.

And that was the end of that.

**Author's Note:**

> How *did* they get lost? We shall never know...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Do leave a comment and tell me what you think!  
^-^ <3


End file.
